


Persephone's Longing

by Silbane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbane/pseuds/Silbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly-divorced and overworked Hermione has finally managed to get some time off from her job. Hoping to unwind, she purchases an audiobook of a saucy nature, but how will she react when she finds that the reader is voiced by none other than the bane of her entire schooling career?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persephone's Longing

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking with my friend today (who honestly at this point should just be acknowledged as a beta with all of the idea bouncing and complaints I throw at her) and we somehow got onto the subject of Alan Rickman's signature, irresistible voice. This started as a joke, but then I couldn't get the darn idea out of my mind, so here you go! A silly thought brought to life in text! Enjoy.

Hermione Granger didn't honestly think about Severus Snape very often in her adult life. Granted, she'd been quite distracted in the last year juggling the finalization of her rather muddy divorce from Ronald Weasley and fighting tooth and nail with the infuriating bureaucracy she labored under to provide her fellow sentient beings with proper rights. In fact, the only times her mind seemed to wander to him were when she was either brewing potions at home (a past time she'd adopted to keep her mind sharp, back when she'd had time for hobbies) or she was pissed and feeling guilty, bringing up past failures and regrets. At those times her mind would wander to those horrifying few moments in the Shrieking Shack where her once-hated professor lay dying on the cold slab of stone beneath her feet; when she'd done nothing about it but stand there, frazzled, thinking only about the fact that every action they took at that point was to be a means to a desperately needed end.

No, neither Severus Snape nor his near-death were a common haunt in her mind until one fateful afternoon in which Hermione Granger found herself seated on her sofa, a warm blanket about her legs and torso, and her newly-purchased audiobook listening device in hand.

While she'd always adored and craved the feel and smell of a new book, unfortunately for Hermione a particular sultry tome that she urgently wanted to consume was only available in the States, and due to some promotion the publisher was running with an up-and-coming online retailer, the audiobook version of the tome was due to be released two weeks earlier than the solid copy was set to be sent out for delivery.

Sure, she could have waited the necessary two weeks (plus an extra week for delivery to the UK) for the physical arrival of the book, but what better way to start her leave of absence from work and celebrate her freedom from her ex-husband than with a new book with delicious scandal and intrigue to be had? Now normally she wouldn't dabble in smutty texts, however, she found herself deeply lacking in romance the last few years between Ronald's klutzy roaming hands and his mother's less-than-subtle remarks about her having yet to pop out a fire-haired child, and needed to unwind, perhaps at her own hands.

This night, a rainy Friday night, she blew gently on the heavily-marshmallowed hot cocoa in her hand and took a sip. Cussing as she foolishly burnt her tongue in her eagerness, she placed the cup down on the coffee table and drew her legs in, tapping the “Play” button on the device with the tip of her finger, headphones securely in place.

_It was a cool, summer evening-_

She paused it immediately. Was that...? _No_ , it absolutely couldn't be. She pressed Play again.

_-when Persephone first laid eyes on-_

Paused. She couldn't believe it, but there it was. The voice was absolutely unmistakable after enduring years of torture at it's slithering, knife-like remarks in her school years. She may be ill. She'd known the rumor that American women had a soft spot for British accents, but knowing well the gaunt, pale features of her nasty Potions professor, she simply couldn't see the appeal. What on earth was the world coming to? _Severus Snape_ providing the reading for a _dirty novel_?

Hermione rushed to her feet, her face red and heart pounding. Was she to tell anyone? Could she bring herself to? The only person she could think of telling was Ginny and she wasn't even sure she would be comfortable revealing her reading habits to the famously open-minded Weasley daughter. She placed a hand over her heart, cocoa forgotten entirely, and sat in the chair opposite the sofa, as if to distance herself from her discovery. This would not do. She couldn't read it, or rather, listen to it; she absolutely refused to even acknowledge the possibility. With enough force to make herself dizzy for a moment, she rose from the chair and headed to her bookshelf to distract herself until she was clear enough of mind to decide what her course of action would be. After several chapters of a Potions chronicle (why on earth she deemed that to be a good idea...) and her leave of absence thoroughly ruined, she stomped her way to bed and hoped to find sleep.

Over the next two days, each time Hermione passed through the living room on her way to the bedroom her eyes glanced over at the abandoned device and the shame it held, but only for a moment before she threw the very memory from her mind.

By the third day, her curiosity was eating her alive and her brilliant mind was maneuvering and weaving the most convincing web of reasons for why she should listen to the shameful book. She'd purchased the damn thing, and it should be _he_ who's embarrassed, not _she_. It was foolish to let her entire vacation be put to flames over something as silly as her former professor reading a few naughty words. Hermione Granger was an adult, she'd helped save the world, was regarded as a hero, and she was willing to be vanquished by a silly book? Preposterous! At 11:06PM the following Tuesday, she thrust the bed sheets from her body and trounced down the stairs, jaw set and eyes blazing. She would sit here all night if she must, but she would finish that damned book even if it gave her a heart attack.

At 6:32AM Wednesday morning, she sat deeply in contemplation over what had just occurred. Over the course of the last few hours, not only had she listened to the whole book, but she'd found her knickers rather sodden at more than one point. After a great deal of thinking, despite how difficult it was to admit, it wasn't just the sensual wordsmithing that had excited her. This was a terrifying revelation.

She'd allowed herself to sleep in until noon before the guilt of accomplishing nothing with her day but nap and fuss over her dirty secret forced her out of bed. Hermione needed to clear her head. After a brisk shower and the necessary amount of effort to tame her ridiculous locks, she headed to Honeydukes to drown some of her frustration with chocolate. A short wander around a few extra shops and some detours later, she found herself at a quiet offset of the town not far out of the way, but enough that she could have time to think for herself.

She sat herself on a bench and riffled through her bag of candies, selecting one that was satisfactory and popping it into her mouth. While she let the outer casing of chocolate melt onto her tongue, as if on cue, a figure cloaked in black with a stride impossible to replicate sat studiously on the opposite side of the makeshift park. Immediately, she drew her eyes away from him. From how far of a distance could one perform Legilimency? Surely he wouldn't recognize her from this far away with her hair tamed and pulled back. She couldn't look at him. She mustn't.

But she could glance, couldn't she?

His broad shoulders, dark, intimidating appearance, the knowledge of the way his lips slid around the most licentious of words made her quim warm with longing as it had the night before. Twenty four hours before this she would be appalled by the things her mind was fantasizing, but now, _now_ she saw him in an entirely new light. It was maddening. What would he feel like? Was he scarred while in his service to his Dark Lord? Did the brand of his double life still burn on his arm? Would his lips be as skilled in bed as they are with cutting statements and erotic elocution?

Well it developed more into an unbashful eyeing as the time went on, the chocolate long since melted and swallowed, and she wondered absently if she should pop another onto her eager tongue while she gawked at him. She dove once again into her bag and when she looked up, candy pressed to her lips, he was gone.

“Is there a reason you seem to be unable to keep your eyes to yourself, Miss Granger?” His abrupt but low tone in her ear caused her to jump from her seat with a quiet _Eep!_ and turn around in a flash, the round ball of chocolate escaping her grip and bouncing onto the ground only to roll away from her. Not that she noticed, her eyes transfixed on the menacing creature still partially leaning over the back of the bench she'd just been seated in. He straightened, slightly unsettled with her silence, and stole a look at the chocolate now finding its home at the edge of the sidewalk, daring to meander into the grass. “You dropped something.”

“Oh.” Her eyes continued their wide assessment of him. He was here. He was _standing right here!_

“Are you feeling well?”

She opened her mouth once and closed it like a gasping fish, her heartbeat in her ears and an inexplicable pressure pooling into the pit of her stomach. She wondered what he smelled like.

He leaned in only an inch closer to her, which was entirely appropriate given their current distance, she reminded herself. “If you have something to _say_ , then _speak it_ , girl.” He spoke with vitriol, then suddenly it was gone, an amused tone taking its place. “Unless the insufferable know-it-all has finally learned to hold her tongue.”

Her face was turning more red by the second, and once her brain restarted itself much like a computer, her outburst simply couldn't be contained. “Oh, I've a _lot_ to say about _held tongues_ , Severus Snape!” She pointed an accusing finger at him with a scowl that could scare off a Dementor. This wasn't her fault, after all! “I know of your little secret, using that silky voice of yours to earn some extra galleons on the side. Couldn't find honest work as a potioneer after your retirement?!”

The former professor's response for the first few seconds after her minor explosion was merely a raised eyebrow. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he smirked. _Smirked._ “And how would you know of my dealings overseas, Miss Granger?”

It took all of Hermione's effort not to puff her cheeks like an impudent child, her blush spreading becomingly to her chest. How dare he try to make _her_ feel bad about this?! “I... That's... It's none of your business how I do or do not know about your seedy dealings!”

“Oh, but I'm _so_ curious.” He rounded the bench. “Enlighten me, was this a fairly recent discovery?”

She remained silent and furiously deflective.

“ _Persephone?_ ”

Her shoulders tightened, nostrils flared. It was all the answer he needed.

“Ha.” A small chuckle left him. “Tell me, did you pre-order it? Were you so eager to receive your _smut_ that you couldn't wait for the hard copy?” He stepped a bit closer to her. _He smelled of cloves_. “Did you listen to the preview sample and couldn't resist my sonorous tones?”

She shook her head of the indignity of his suggestions. “I'm fairly certain that if I'd read your name anywhere or heard a second of your voice I wouldn't have bothered ordering it!” She'd perhaps spoken this part a bit loudly, as there were now several people around them turning their attention to the bickering couple.

A flash of what she swore could have been hurt appeared and disappeared from his face as quickly as it came, replaced with a grin of satisfaction at her embarrassment. “If you turn any more red, my dear, you may catch fire.” He stepped back, giving her space back. “Also, that wasn't the only book I've lent my _silky_ voice to, Miss Granger.” A moment later and the small pop of expertly-executed apparation was all that was left.

With her own apparation, nearly reckless enough to splinch her, she went home and ran to the laptop stashed in the top left drawer of her writing desk. She untangled the cord with surprising haste and plugged it in, turning it on and growing more and more frustrated every second the damned contraption wasn't yet loaded. Finally, _finally_ , she could pull up the search engine and locate the other books. Never mind the fact that this was absolutely wrong in every sense, finding herself obsessed with hearing more of the dirty tales as told by her wretched professor. Never mind the shocked faces of her friends or family if they found out what she was looking for, what she'd already purchased, what she'd discovered. Never mind that his warm scent was still lingering in her nostrils.

When she finally located the pseudonym he apparently worked under, she forced herself to stop her frantic research and think about the real world for a moment. This was unhealthy. She shouldn't worry herself to death over a foolish infatuation with someone who would sooner throw her in a pit of snakes than- wait... Had he flirted with her? Or had he merely been teasing her as he'd done so many times so viciously when she were younger? The uncertainty of it was going to tear her apart. She needed to know. _Stop, think, Hermione! How will you handle this? You can't keep milling about like a psychopath, you're an adult for goodness sake!_

More deliberations and another listen to a few of the more enticing chapters (where had her sense of judgment run off to? Really...), she decided it was time to send him an owl. Perhaps if she met him in person, if she could get reacquainted with his surly, dour form, she could rid her mind of him. Yes, that would be best.

She sat at her desk and wrote a terse letter, requesting his presence at an obscure muggle pub somewhat near Diagon Alley the next day at three o'clock in the afternoon, lessening their chances of being seen together lest rumors start. She desperately hoped he still lived at Spinner's End when she sent her owl off to deliver her correspondence.

Hermione received no confirmation on his end, but went to the pub at the aforementioned time regardless, seating herself facing the entryway to watch patiently for him should he decide to show. At a quarter past three, he strode in directly to her booth as if he'd known exactly where she'd be.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting, Miss Granger?” He sat himself in the opposite side of the booth, making a show of adjusting his many-buttoned frock coat.

She could barely contain her excitement. He'd come! Once again her heart raced in her ears, his molten voice coiling around her. “You know why.” When had her own voice become so breathy?

“I assure you I have no clue why you would demand my attendance in this dingy pub in the middle of the day.”

Her jaw tightened, his coyness was doing the exact opposite that it should. Since when did being looked down upon by him become so appealing? “ _Fine._ I can't stop thinking about you.” Might as well go all in, she thought.

He smirked, the bastard. He leaned his elbows onto the table. “Is that so?”

Her breaths grew rapid. “You're a terrible man.”

“Yes, one you left to die without a second thought, isn't that true Miss Granger?”

“And I'm so sorry for that.” She eased one of her heels off and slid her foot to touch his thigh under the table. She was rewarded with the flare of his nostrils and a deadly gaze bored into her. “I don't know how I'll ever repay you. But perhaps some of the guilt is balanced out by the stress you've caused me over the past few days.”

The tips of her toes grazed the bulge in his trousers wantonly, just as described in a scene of the book that caused this whole mess. It was an incredibly bold move. Alas, who could resist a ready and willing witch thrown at their feet? Severus Snape was not a man to refuse such an offer. “Perhaps I can offer a compromise, then. I ease your mind and you work to earn my trust?”

“And how,” her sentence almost faltered, she could feel her own wetness soaking her knickers, “can you possibly relieve my mind?”

One of his hands slid under the table to grasp her small foot, massaging it gently with deft fingers. “Would a private reading suit your needs?”

Was he kidding? This was what she wanted most in the world right now! She swallowed hard, hoping her eagerness wouldn't show. “I would find that most agreeable.”

“Very well. Is your afternoon free?”

“I have a few obligations,” the pretense of formality only made their agreement sweeter, “but I think that can be arranged. Do you have a time in mind?” She couldn't resist dipping her head back for a moment as he plied the foot she didn't realize was aching from months of abuse at the Ministry.

His voice dropped low, causing the slightest shiver down her back. “Right now would work best for me. If you don't object.”

“I suppose that would be fitting, wouldn't it?” She nearly let out a mewl of pleasure when his thumb pressed into her arch.

“Indeed.”

“My place or yours?” This had to be a dream, there was no way this was actually-

He spoke no louder than a growl. “Mine.”

The next day, delivered by an owl most determinedly not belonging to Hermione Granger, Jordan Delebright, the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, received a letter with a request to extend the woman's leave of absence for another week. It was approved.

 

**Author's Note:**

> No this isn't me procrastinating trying to finish Caught! That's just silly... (I'm so sorry, I'll get the last two chapters written soon!)
> 
> If you're not up to leaving a comment, kudos make my heart sing! <3
> 
> Edit: I published this very late at night/far too early in the morning, so forgive the typos that were littered about. I've fixed the ones I've found and rid it of words repeated too closely together. Thank you for reading!


End file.
